Yeah, Webby
What up, Block?
You see when Webby gotta get it, I'ma leave your body twisted
With these punchlines so fucking hard they ask if Rocky did it
Always staying drunk, see me in the lobby sipping
Blacking out like I'm sharing drinks with Bill Cosby's bitches
The way I step to the mic has gotta be God's gift
White boy with a light skin bitch, call me John Smith
Little thot chick, just make it drop, trick
Got a chastity belt? I'll pass you to locksmith
Middle fingers in the sky 'til my arms tire
You think my tonsils made of Flint the way I talk fire
Say they better than Webby, they all liars
Y'all ain't going nowhere like barbed wires on your car tires
Taking anxiety medication with Kevin Bacon
In Grand Central Station until my body is levitating
Chilling with the stars in two ways, but fuck an explanation
Just follow the bouncing ball as I give you this demonstration
Tell me what it is, what it ain't gon' be
Some of y'all hate but it ain't on me
Nothing ever change, I'm the same old me
You don't feel the same then it's shame on me
Tell me what it is, what it ain't gon' be
Some of y'all hate but it ain't on me
Nothing ever change, I'm the same old me
You don't feel the same then it's shame on me
Okay, some rappers hustle they music and rush lyrics
Other rappers only do music to fuck bitches
Some rappers wait for a hot media topic
Act like they give a fuck then write songs so they can profit
Often but it's often perceived as being conscious
When it's nothing more than an external plot for they pockets
Stop it, pussy rapper you lacking, your label testifies
You say that it's rap but I say it's a Kegel exercise
The nerve of these motherfuckers, they even utter
Speakers stutter words in indecent mutters then greet their mothers
We discovered most of the artists you harvest bore us
Instead of lashing out, we let the music do it for us
Ignore us or you start to catch me whether or not my art reflects me
Dudes pretending they penning a pen in a
Weather they when they start to sketch me
The part that vex me, other markets are sharp to bless me
Either you retarded, left guarded or suffer narcolepsy
Tell me what it is, what it ain't gon' be
Some of y'all hate but it ain't on me
Nothing ever change, I'm the same old me
You don't feel the same then it's shame on me
Tell me what it is, what it ain't gon' be
Some of y'all hate but it ain't on me
Nothing ever change, I'm the same old me
You don't feel the same then it's shame on me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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